‘I’m not.’ He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see you, but a desire for privacy. If you came all this way to see me, it’s not to play cricket with a mob of curious relatives.’
Ilsa’s eyes widened and he saw a flash of silver there that catapulted him back to those times when Ilsa had looked at him with wonder and approval. As if his lovemaking had the power to change her world.
‘You weren’t trying to shoo me away,’ she said softly.
Noah shook his head. ‘I wanted to get you alone so we could talk.’
He paused, watching her absorb that and trying not to categorise his feelings. Because even now he felt far, far too much for this woman. Just seeing her, so close yet so untouchable, turned him inside out. He wasn’t used to being at the mercy of emotions. He was used to being in control of every situation. Ever since Poppy.
‘So, Ilsa. Why are you here?’
She might be good at looking calm and composed for the public, but Noah could read her better now. The hectic flutter of her pulse at her throat. The swift inhalation that lifted her breasts. The way she pushed her shoulders back as if preparing for something tough.
Noah felt himself stiffen in anticipation of bad news. Was she ill? But why travel to tell him when she’d washed her hands of him?
‘Because I’m pregnant.’ She paused and Noah heard the drum of his pulse in his ears once, twice, three times. ‘We’re going to be parents.’
‘Parents?’ His eyes locked on hers and it was like watching lightning flash down to earth. Ilsafeltthe judder right to the soles of her feet. ‘Us?’
‘The baby is yours, Noah.’ She grabbed for air then blurted out the truth. ‘There’s been no one else but you.’
He looked stunned. Who could blame him?
‘That’s why I’m here. I had to talk with you in person. I didn’t want to tell you by phone or email.’
Not just because of her news.
Ilsa hadwantedto see him. She craved the feel of his arms around her. His solid, reassuring presence. His smile that turned the world into an exciting, spectacular place. He’d accepted her as an equal, just as Ilsa, not because of her royal name or anything else. Had that man totally vanished or was some part of him left?
She waited for his response.
Would it be elation at impending fatherhood?
Wariness because he’d already moved on to a new relationship?
Or suspicion that she tried to pin a pregnancy on him?
She got none of those. Noah stood so still he didn’t even seem to breathe. Yet that pulse of energy between them was like a live wire, crackling in the silence.
‘Here.’ Abruptly he took her arm and led her to a sofa near the window. ‘Sit down and tell me everything.’
Ilsa was grateful for the seat. She’d screwed up her courage to come here and she’d ridden a wave of tension for too long. Her knees loosened and she plopped down onto the cushioned seat.
Noah took a chair opposite, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He looked intent, absorbed, but that was all. Ilsa had expected...fireworks. Delight or dismay.
Maybe because he didn’t yet believe her?
‘I suppose you’ll want a paternity test.’
His brow furrowed. ‘When did you find out? Is the baby okay? Areyouall right?’
Ilsa put her hand up. ‘The baby is fine so far and so am I. There’s not even any morning sickness.’
She’d been tired, terribly tired, but she didn’t know if that was from the pregnancy or the malaise she felt, nursing a broken heart and trying to find the enthusiasm to plan a future for herself and her baby. No matter how hard she tried, her mind skittered away from any concrete decisions. Maybe now she’d shared this with Noah she’d be able to focus.
He nodded. ‘So, you conceived that day in London?’
‘Actually, no. It was earlier.’